


Off The Air

by penguinpatrolerarmy



Series: The Mark and Mazz AU [4]
Category: Pump Up the Volume (1990)
Genre: Absent Parents, Alternate Universe, Bad Parenting, Canon Diverence, Canon Gay Character, Dysfunctional Family, Family Drama, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Neglect, Selective Muteness, Sexuality, Teen Angst, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-19 06:27:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17596175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penguinpatrolerarmy/pseuds/penguinpatrolerarmy
Summary: The one thing Mark actually agreed with his parents about was keeping his door open for those who needed it.





	1. Ignatius "Mazz" Mazzilli

**Author's Note:**

> Okay before you start reading any of the fic, I want to give a well deserves shout out to my friend and co-creator of the AU this fic takes place in: Scouts_Mockingbird... If you want more background on our Mark and Mazz works you can search either of our tumblrs for information.]
> 
> I will also put warnings on chapters that might be potentially triggering to some, though I will say that this fic is fairly tame in nature. If you feel something should be tagged, let me know what it should be tagged as along with what chapter it appears in and I will gladly do so. 
> 
> Now Then, Onto the story:

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Possible Triggers: Discussion of Familial issues.

“…Sometimes it just feels like everyone is stuck in a big tub of cream. We don’t know how we got there or how we’re gonna get out of it. And the the cream is just getting thicker and thicker and harder to swim through…” Mark sighed into his microphone, letting his Harry persona take the reins. Needless to say, his day had been shit. The only upside being that it made it easier to get into character for his Broadcast.“A few of us make it out eventually, we stick it out just long enough to work the cream into butter and claw ourselves to the other side… But what’s the cost of it all? How many did we cast away just on the slimmest chance we’d manage to get there?”

He took a moment to catch his breath. As he did, he noticed something move from the corner of his eye. He glanced over just quick enough to see Mazz Mazzilli stamp in through the back door, walk straight to his bed, and flop over on his side. Immediately, this seemed out of character, and Mark wasn’t sure exactly how to feel about that. Mazz had come to his house several times in the night, but not usually like this. He wasn't sure what was going on, all he really knew that he didn’t like the tumultuous energy radiating off of his friend.

Mark turned back to his microphone for a moment. “Apologies my desperate listeners, but I’ve gotta go take care of something real quick. In the meantime, Here’s a little tune someone recommended to me.”

He placed a cassette into one of his many players and let it fill the air. It wasn’t his own. Mazz had given it to him sometime ago saying it was something he wished more people could hear. Mark hadn’t played it for his audience before tonight, but he figured it was fitting to the conversation that he’d been having with no one. Plus, having his favorite song playing in the background might help Mazz feel better.

Speaking of Mazz…

Mark stood up, slowly making his way over to his bed. He sat down so he was just slightly outside of his friend’s personal space. Mazz barely reacted, other than the shifting of his eyes to Mark's hands.

There were a few more concerning things about him... For one, he wasn't wearing his practically signature leather vest... Hell he didn't even have any jacket on, just a big flannel.

Another thing was his upset expression. Mark had only seen this particular look a few times before, when someone or something _really_ got under Mazz's skin. Plus, his cheeks were red and puffed around his eyes, indicated that he either needed to cry or had cried earlier.

But, the thing that worried Mark the most was the absolute silence. Mazz was scarcely quiet about anything, be it something that he liked or something that he loathed. When Mazz was the quiet one, that's when shit was at it's worse.

Mark took a breath, trying to approach this carefully “Hey.” He greeted.

Mazz shifted slightly, rubbing his face. “Why’d you stop?” His voice was genuinely confused. Mark just shrugged.

“You didn’t seem okay, Didn’t wanna wait to check on you.” He explained. Mazz looked up at him, then back to his hand. He reached over, grasping it gently.

“Well, thanks…” He sighed. Mark let Mazz rub at his palm, his own fingers occasionally caressing his hand. His friend seemed more interested in his hand than anything else at this moment, in fact.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Mazz huffed. “My Family is just being themselves, y'know?”

Mark tilted his head. “How so?" He had a hunch, but he preferred to clarify it before he proceeded.

Mazz took a deep breath, then started to ramble: "ASU is on a semester break right now so Nazzareno and Lazzaro are home... Which is already sucky itself cause, y'know... But anyways: Mom was super insistent that we all get together and eat dinner as a family because we hadn't done it for a while. And I was kind of looking forward to it at first, but then I remembered that they're my family and a million things could go wrong.

"So, Of Course, A million things went wrong. Palmiro and Basilo hated that they had to be sat next to each other so Jascopo had to move between the two of them... Then he got grumpy cause his new seat didn't have a cushion so I had to switch with him. Then Dante, poor innocent Dante, He got his report card back today and apparently he'd failing Math... Dad got all pissy about it and went on a rant about how he needed to to better in school and then he points at me and starts making and example and... It got so uncomfortable and I felt like I was gonna start yelling or something, but if I did that then it'd just be another thing going wrong that night so... I just walked out the door... I didn't even grab my coat or nothing dude."

Mark's expression through that story changed from concerned, to angered, to upset. Mazz almost never had anything good to say about his family to begin with, but this was probably among some of the worst things he'd told him about. Then, something else worked its way into his mind.

"Wait... Mazz, how long were you out there for?" Mark asked.

"I dunno... since 6 i think?" Mazz replied.

"You... You were walking for 4 hours?"

"...Yeah."

Mark's expression dropped. "Dude... You could've like, called or something? If you needed to? My folks totally would have come over and gotten you."

Mazz shrugged. "I wasn't thinking about it... Plus I don't think I have any change on me anyways."

They fell quiet a moment, neither really sure how to continue carrying the conversation. Then, Mazz sat up suddenly and wrapped his arms around Mark. Mark, while initially not expecting this, hugged him back, hoping his hold would at least offer a little bit of comfort. He heard Mazz breath a little funny for a moment, then felt his grip around him tighten slightly. While he could try to wish otherwise, Mark knew he was probably about to cry again.

Mark frowned. He knew it wasn't the only reason, but he didn't really like the thought of someone crying over dinner... He usually had taken his own 'family dinners' for granted. To Mark, it was just another way for them to bud into his personal life... But, since meeting Mazz, he'd started letting him come over more and more. It worked pretty well, Mazz was a natural chatterbox and held conversations better than Mark could even dream to.

...But now he was starting to understand why Mazz always said "Yes" to eating with them. A part of Mark felt his stomach churn at the thought of Mazz struggling to get by in his house, just another lost kid ruined by the ideal of a nuclear family; but at the very least Mark had managed to find him and lets him come over a lot. Sure, Mark's own parents maybe weren't always what Mark needed... But Mazz? Mazz really needed parents more like them.

He squeezed his arms around Mazz. "There's a lot I want to say, but I'm not sure how to say all of it... So, I just want you to know: You're always welcomed here. For Dinner, For Company, For whatever you need."

Mazz tightened his own grip. He didn't say anything, but Mark could tell there was a shift in his mood. He hoped it was the right thing, or at least enough to give Mazz something to hold on to for the night.

Mazz pulled away from Mark, rubbing eyes a little. “…Sorry for barging in like this… I just didn’t wanna go anywhere else.” He mumbled.

“Its okay. I’ve gone to you too many times to count when I felt bad… The least I can do is try to help you feel better when you need it.” Mark replied.

Mazz let out a chuckle. “Guess you got a point there, bud.” He pulled away slightly, “Thanks for um… This.”

“Of course, Mazz… You need anything else before that song ends?”

“Probably some food, I sort of walked out before dinner.” Mazz said sheepishly. Mark flashed him a smile.

“My mom will heat you some leftovers if you ask.” He said, standing up and walking back towards his desk. “Go on upstairs, I’ll join ya after I close off.”

“With all due respect, I think I’d like to hear the end of your broadcast… Harry.” Mazz replied with a sly smirk.

Mark nodded, heading for his desk and turning his Mic back over. “Now then, Where was I?”


	2. Nora DiNiro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Possible triggers: Talks of loneliness

"Sometimes I just feel like the worst ones out there are the ones who don't get to talk to anyone... The one's who want desperately to say something but feel inclined otherwise. I dunno, I just feel like if we got to listen to them more, we'd have a neat perspective to view things from...Hell, that's why you guys listen to me, isn't it? You all wanna hear what Old Harry has to say cause, well, who else is he gonna say something to? So, send me a few letters, say something you think needs to be said... And maybe I'll read it on-air." Mark looked to his side, grabbing a familiar looking Red Envelope. He knew now that the mysterious writer was his classmate, Nora DiNiro, but he still enjoyed reading her poetry. He dramatically brought the paper up to his microphone, opening it slowly.

"Now," He began, "Before I leave you all, How about a few closing words from our favorite poet, Ms. "Eat Me, Beat Me" herself... Looks like it's a haiku tonight."

He leaned back, letting the words flow off the paper and onto his tongue.

" _Sometimes, we can't say_  
 _What it is we truly want_  
 _with mouths full of ----_

"Yes, she really just put four dashes there... What oh what could those mean? Dick? Cock? Piss? That's the beauty of it, isn't it? Those four dashes could be whatever we see fit... Well, until next time my restless listeners. This is Hard Harry, reminding you the only time you should have to keep something wrapped up is when making love.”

And on that note, Mark shut off his equipment. Letting it rest until he’d need it again tomorrow night. He didn't always admit it, but longer broadcasts took the most out of him. He could only take being Harry for so long before he needed to rest. He took a final drag from the cigarette he'd lit earlier and began to stretch his spine, letting it pop back into place.

“Hey.”

Mark nearly jumped, coughing back up all the smoke in his lungs. He looked over to see a familiar face, then took a moment to catch his breath and let himself process this... Apparently, Nora DiNiro had walked in while he had his back turned. Mark found himself lost with words, but also trapped with the knowledge that it'd be rude not to respond.

“Hey.” He replied with a bit of a rasp. Nora gave him a sympathetic look.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine.” It hadn’t been the first time he’d choked on nicotine… Hell it hadn’t even been the first time Nora scared him into it. “What brings you here this late?”

Nora shrugged, strutting past him. “I got bored at home. Things were too calm at the field for my taste, and your place wasn’t too far.”

Mark raised an eyebrow. “The field was calm?” That was absurd news to him. Usually the others raved on about how great the field was (on account of the fact that he couldn't see for himself).

“Yeah.” Nora confirmed, “ But I got there at like 12 and right now It’s a quarter to 1, think everyone was just tired.”

“Yeah, I don’t blame them.” He’d rambled on for a good while tonight, they probably were as exhausted as he was. That probably also meant no Mazz tonight, since he usually carpooled a few people to and back. He didn’t really mind too much, Nora looked like she needed some attention right now. And he wasn't about to deny her that when he had enough to offer.

“Are you okay?” He asked, starting to hide away some of his broadcasting essentials. Though, despite what it might look like, his full attention was truly on Nora. And she knew his mannerisms enough by now to know this.

“What makes you ask?” She mumbled, almost like trying to avoid it.

“Well for starters, you just walked into the house of a guy you’ve only known for a few weeks at almost 1 am.”

Nora didn't reply immediately, and the room went silent. Nothing but the faint hum of the lights above their heads and the occasionally shifting papers on his desk was heard. It was almost odd to him. Usually Nora would try to keep their conversations going, and was very open when something bothered or upset her... But she seemed less willing to talk about it tonight. Mark felt a bit worried about this... But, he wasn't really one to force someone into talking about things. Sure, sometimes his show had pretty touchy topics on it depending on the people he called. But they were consenting to the conversation by enclosing their numbers.

Eventually, Nora did speak up. “I guess I just felt lonely… My house was empty tonight, save for myself. Not that it's ever anything else.”

There it was. There was the thing bothering her that she uncharacteristically decided to keep in.

“So, you figured you’d hang out with friends… And when they didn’t seem up for it you thought I might be?” He inquired.

“You’re my friend too, y'know… But, yeah. Basically.” Nora confirmed, slouching into his couch. Mark covered up the last of his equipment, making sure it didn't look overly suspicious. His parents didn't really come into his room, and he was grateful for that, but he paid serious attention to safety when it came to matters involving his show. He turned around and sat right next to Nora.

“So, you wanna do something or did you just need to talk with someone who’d actually listen?” Mark inquired.

Nora played with the hem of her shirt for a bit. “Is it possible to miss someone you don’t l really know?” In a way, it dodged the question... Yet at the same time it was an answer to it.

Mark pondered over this statement for a moment, trying to make sense of it. It was somewhat philosophical in it's wording, and yet he knew Nora probably meant it in a more literal sense. Still, Mark's approach was to ask rather than assume. “Maybe… How do you mean that?”

Her expression shifted. “Like… Nevermind it's dumb.” She curled her legs up, her eyes no longer facing him. Mark frowned.

“It’s not dumb to you, clearly.” He remarked, placing a hand on her shoulder. He saw her arm shift, indicating to him that she was wiping her face. Was she-? Mark felt his heart droop, but didn't get to say anything before Nora started talking again.

“Just… You know don’t see my parents often. And sometimes it’s alright, I get my space and I’m kind of allowed to make my own rules, but other times it’s just dull… The house gets too cold and empty. I don't get in trouble with them but I kind of wished I would cause… at least then that means they care a little.” Her voice cracked a few times as she talked, yet she somehow had managed to keep a composed demeanor.

He gave her a knowing look. “See, I told you it wasn’t dumb… It’s a shitty thing, but its not dumb.”

Nora shrugged. "It feels dumb... I'm probably luckier than most kids at school, why should I have to complain?"

Mark gave her a serious look. "Well, firstly: I think it's fair to say anyone going to Humphrey has the worst fucking luck in the world. Secondly, Even if you do consider yourself luckier by comparison that doesn't mean you don't have things to feel bad about."

"I know but... I dunno, I just feel guilty when I do feel bad. And, it just feels like everyone wants me to feel guilty cause... Guilt is just easier to manipulate someone with. And when I don't feel guilty or try to stand up for myself, I'm 'immature' or 'childish' or 'not being lady-like... But, It's hard not being a child when everyone treats you like one." She slouched into Mark's shoulder, her voice becoming a light grumble.

"Exactly... All the Adults say that they want us to be grown, but they rely on us being children to screw us over. It's all just a long cycle of "Who gets to fuck with who?" This managed to get a light laugh out of Nora.

"Is Mr. Hard-on gonna give me a private broadcast?" She joked, lightly slugging his arm. Mark just gave her a slightly amused chuckle.

"As nice as that sounds, you couldn't afford him." He replied, messing her hair a little. They fell into a silence, comfortable but still somewhat awkward to be in.

"Sorry, I'm out of things to say." Nora said.

"You're apologizing to the guy who can't talk for shit without a microphone." Mark reminded.

"Fair point." Nora chuckled. And, once again, they fell into quiet. Mark fiddled with his fingers a moment. Now that he thought about it, he'd never really heard too much about Nora's life before now. Sure, he knew her parents weren't home much, but he never really learned how she felt about that. She usually opted to talk about anything else, and now he knew why that was. Her life just wasn't at home, it was out with people... And, admittedly, Mark felt a bit of understanding about that.

He wasn't nearly as outgoing as her, not by a long-shot, but he would be telling the worst of lies if he didn't admit how much their little friend group had come to mean to him. Even when they did nothing together, something about it was warmer than the life he'd grown used to before. They all managed to make each other's lives better, and Nora knew that as well as he did. For her, it was probably like having a home away from home... A more attentive home than the one she dreaded going back to at the end of the day. A home where-

An idea crept it's way into Mark's mind. He stood up, going to his equipment again.

"What are you doing?" Nora asked. Mark didn't say anything for a moment, mostly because he was too focused on finding the right cassette... Ah, there it was. He placed it into one of the players, letting the up-beat, alternative tune fill the room. He tapped his foot a few times, then looked over at Nora.

"You wanna be kids for a little while?" He asked, his hand stretched out towards her. Nora stared at it, smirked, and let him pull her along. And so, the two of them began dancing along to the melody; Hips swaying, feet tapping, and arms pumping with the beat. It wasn't professional level movements, but that didn't matter. It was all just for good fun, good fun that would later be a cherished memory.

By the end of it, they were just standing in the middle of the room. Nora pulled him into a hug, which he happily returned. They held each other for a moment, and this time the silence wasn't a bad thing. Their faces smiling with a rare kind of glee; One that was reminiscent of a more innocent time in life that somehow managed to find its way back out amidst darkness.

"So... I have to ask. What was your poem about?" Mark questioned. Nora gave him a look, then smirked.

"Like you said, it means whatever you want it to." She replied. Mark chuckled, spinning her along as another song started up.


	3. Paige Woodward

“I think, above all else, the worst plague upon society is just one... little... tiny word: **_Expectation._** You gotta do this or do that or else someone is gonna be disappointed. And you're always expected to be something that you aren't even remotely attached to... It's just an endless cycle of creating mask after mask after mask and hoping someone doesn't get disappointed. When I first moved here, my parents expected me to be all rainbows and sunshine about it. Now I think reality is starting to set in on them, but knowing them they'll probably try to shove me along to the next thing they find." Mark's voice once more filled the room as Harry's was filling the air. Though, he could tell that tonight would be a shorter broadcast than some of his other ones. He just for whatever reason wasn't feeling it as well as other nights... He leaned back, nursing his cigarette.

"I dunno about you guys, but it gets absolutely exhausting... Just masking and unmasking and re-masking day after day after day. Like, sometimes I spend so much time in my mask, i feel like I'm starting to forget myself... Bit by bit, I'm fading away. And there's a little part of me that just wants me to scream out and claw it off. But, the mask is stuck so tightly to my face that it won't budge."

He spun around a few times in his chair, trying to think about another way to pass time... He hadn't pretended to masturbate in a while... Best to keep Happy Harry Hard-On hard, right? Mark smiled, wondering why he always kept his best jokes in his head. He leaned into his microphone, preparing to make the lewdest sound he could possibly think of.

**Knock-Knock-Knock!**

Mark stumbled. "Uh okay folks I think my mom is knockin' on my door but I'll have a special treat for you when I get back!!!" He stammered, shutting the mic off. He could feel his face go warm, and had no doubt that it was covered in blush. Still, he recovered.

**Knock-Knock-Knock**

Wait, that wasn't coming from the inside door. Mark turned his head to the curtains, wondering who just might be waiting there.

"It's wide open you know." He called out.

There was a soft "Oh." from the other side. Then, the figure stepped out from behind the curtain. Mark looked in genuine surprise.

"Paige Woodward." He said plainly, "Well, what brings you into my humble abode this fine evening?"

"Got sick of my dad pitying the loss of my future." Paige grumbled, leaning in the frame of the door.

Mark sighed. He almost wanted to point out the irony of this given what he'd just been spouting on the radio, but decided against it. Paige was still coping with change, he figured, it be best not to push too much. "Sorry to hear that."

"Don't be, he's always been an ass." She said with a shrug.

Paige was kind of like himself in a sense: Not much of a talker towards people. She wanted to talk to people, but never really engaged much with them. Though, he'd say what separated the two of them in situation was that 1) He was still mostly an outcast at the school, and 2)Paige was already a few steps ahead of him in overcoming shyness. Sure, she talked more in their friend group, but she branched out more than he ever tried to. He thought her lucky, in that manner, given he still was struggling with this part himself.

Now, one would think this similarity would be something that would make for easy conversation. But, really, He and Paige didn't talk to each other much unless joined by one of the others. He couldn't place a particular reason why, but Mark just supposed it was something they'd been putting off before now.

"So, did you need something?" Mark asked, "Not that I don't mind the company, but you don't normally come to my house without one of the others joining in."

Paige shrugged, indicating that there wasn't really a particular reason. Mark gave a nod and a quick mumble of "Alright." He leaned into his chair a moment, eyeing his microphone. No, it could still wait. They locked eyes for a moment, still not really saying much. Paige walked further into the room, past Mark, and towards the terrarium near the edge of his room. His lizard didn't seem to react to this much, not even so much as waving his arm.

"Does he ever move from that spot?" Paige asked suddenly.

Mark nodded. "Yeah, but it's his favorite. It's why I keep his basking light there." It laid just above the fake little log resting slanted along the tank. Reggie himself was usually more energetic than this, though it was apparent that he wasn't a very nocturnal creature.

Again, they were quite. Mark almost went back to broadcasting, but before he could Paige said something that seemed like it needed attention.

"Do you think people are scared of me?"

Mark gave her a look. Truthfully, he couldn't say for himself. He never really paid mind to what other kids seemed to think about anything when He was at school. "Do you think you could elaborate on that?" He asked.

Paige sighed. "I dunno. Like, Before people would just kind of acknowledge me... Before I was _Perfect Paige: The Model Student_... Now I'm just _Paige: The Kid_   _Who Blew Up Her Kitchen_..." She rubbed at the bandage on her noes for a moment. "I'm not sure if that's an improvement or a downgrade."

Mark gave her a look. "Well, are you happy?"

"What?"

"You blew up your kitchen after I made a grand speech about doing something crazy in spite of the pain given from daily life... How do you feel about that?"

Paige thought over it a moment, pacing around. "I guess... I feel... different. I'm not sure what kind of different though. Like, I finally got to make a decision that I wanted to make, but... that decision literally blew up in my face."

"But it was you're decision, right? You didn't feel forced into it?"

"Not at all, and... It felt nice." She admitted.

"Then why do you care what anyone else thinks?" Mark asked, "You felt crummy, and you did something that made you feel better. You shouldn't have to sacrifice that just because someone gives you a funny look." He leaned back into his chair, examining her expression.

Paige gave a nod and a shrug. "Yeah... I guess it's just like, My dad is always saying that I threw away my future now..."

Mark scoffed. "If he's more concerned about you throwing away your future than he is about your well being, that says more about him than it does you."

A thud came from the terrarium, Reggie's face was pressed against the glass. Mark stood up, pulling the small reptile out. Reggie crawled up his arm, perching himself happily onto his shoulder. Mark noticed Paige looking again. She seemed to be staring at him a lot... Maybe...

"Do you wanna hold him?" He asked.

Paige stared another moment. "I dunno. I don't think-"

"Do _you_ want to hold him?" Mark repeated. Paige took another glance at him.

"...Kind of."

Mark smirked. "I thought so." He motioned for Paige to come closer, then positioned her arm in a specific manner.

"It's gonna feel a little ticklish, just try to not squirm too much and you'll both be fine." He instructed, lifting Reggie off of himself and onto Paige. The lizard latched right on, keeping himself steady and not really moving much from where he was placed. It appeared he wasn't against this in any way. Paige kept her arm as stable as she could. 

"This is pretty cool." She said, staring down at Reggie.

"Yeah, He's usually picky about people but he seems to like you well enough."

"Yeah." Paige mumbled, "So... About the other kids. I know I shouldn't care what they think but, how do I start that?"

Mark thought over it a moment. Truthfully, he wasn't really sure. He could well enough ignore any stares or glances he got in the halls at school just cause that's who he was... But teaching someone that was another skill entirely, and he wasn't sure he'd be the right person.

But, He did happen to know someone else who might be. "I don't think I'm the right person to ask about that. I'm glad you are, but I wouldn't know exactly what to say beyond 'just stop'... That said, I'd be willing to bet Mazz would know how to help you with that. Out of everyone I've ever met, He gives the least of a shit about what others think of him."

Paige away for a moment. "You really think Mazz would be okay helping me?"

Mark just smirked. "It's Mazz. He'll be ecstatic about it."

Paige smiled back. "Yeah, I think you're right."

Reggie started to crawl towards Paige's hand, His own arm tiny arm stretching out slightly. Mark placed his hand just close enough for him to crawl back onto it. Reggie once again scurried up to his shoulder.

"That's quite a bond you two got there." Paige laughed.

"He just wants food, I usually feed him around this time." Mark shrugged and turned to his table. "I gotta get back to my show, you need anything? Water? Ride home?"

Paige shook her head. "Just keep the broadcast going long enough for me to get to the field so I can talk to Mazz, will ya?"

Mark nodded. "I can do that. You have a good night, Paige Woodward."

"You too, Mark Hunter."

She exited just as she came, disappearing once more behind the curtains. Mark watched her for a moment, then turned to look at his Lizard. "Well, you were friendly tonight weren't you little guy?"

Reggie answered as most Lizards would: with a blank stare and a tilt of his head. Mark chuckled, picking him up and placing him back in his terrarium. "I'll feed ya in a second okay, I got one more thing I need to take care of."

He flipped his microphone back on. "Sorry about the interruption, my desperate listeners... As promised, I'm gonna make it up to you all. So, Who wants to hear the lovely sound of Happy Harry Hard-On once more giving into his sexual urges on air for all to hear?" 


	4. Christian Desmon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Possible Triggers: Depiction of a panic attack, Chris alludes to that thing that happened to him in the film a little but it's as vague here as it is in the film.

Mark sighed into his microphone, “Now, before we start today, I would like to address something in regards to a certain ‘Mr. Confused’… Yes, I’m sure you all know who I’m talking about. Now, I’ve actually gotten several letters either about or addressed to him since he was on the show. Most of them, thankfully, were sent with genuine concern or in well meaning. However, I’d also like to state that Mr. Confused did not enclose his address on the letter… So I have no way of forwarding these to him at the moment. I also am not going to call him a second time simply because I don’t really want to bother him without his permission… That said, Mr. Confused, if you do wish for me to send these letters your way; feel free to ask me for them and I’ll work something out.”

Mark pulled away from his mic a moment, taking a few breaths. Truthfully? He was just as concerned about Confused as anyone else… But he didn’t want to invade on his life or end up putting the kid in danger. So, this seemed like the best alternative.

He leaned back into his chair, continuing the rest of the broadcast. Going on and on about how he hated judgmental people. Probably cause it’d been on his mind lately. How society only deemed things unfit cause of outdated ideals and the unnecessary need to regulate what wasn’t theirs… He almost slipped up a few times as things got very personal. But frankly, Harry liked not having a clear cut identity. And he intended to keep it that way.

“I dunno guys, Maybe old Harry’s just not looking hard enough… But I feel these kinds of resources should be easy to find regardless of-”

He wanted to say more, but didn’t get to. Someone scurried into his room. They tripped over a rug, nearly landed on their face, and were completely out of breath. Mark looked over, though without his glasses he couldn’t recognize the figure very well.

“'Scuse me for a moment folks, I gotta go check on something.” He spoke into the microphone before turning it off. Normally he’d play music, but he didn't want to waste time picking a song without a plan.

As Mark got closer, he realized exactly who this person was. Chris Desmon: A Member of the school swim team who happened to have been in a lot of advanced classes with Paige. Mark would call him a friend, though Chris generally kept to himself on their group outings… Not that he was any different really. Mark would say that, generally speaking, he knew the least about him out of anyone in their group (Because Chris, like Mark, was not a big talker)... Maybe tonight would change that.

Mark walked right over, helping his friend to his feet. “You alright, Chris?”

Chris wiped his face, scanning the room. “Is he out there?”

Mark was taken aback by the question. “Is who out there?”

Chris looked down at his feet. “I think someone was following me.”

Mark’s eyes widened. He had about a million questions, but they could wait for now. “Stay there a moment.” He instructed. Mark walked over to his sliding door, placed his glasses on, and peeked into the outside world. Nothing on the right, nothing to the left, and nothing in front on his face.

“I don't see anyone, but I’m gonna shut the door to be safe.” He informed, locking the glass door and letting the curtains conceal the room. He turned to face Chris again, who still seemed tense. “Are you okay?”

“I… I think so…” The younger boy mumbled. His body was trembling just a little.

“Do you wanna sit down?”

“I…Fuck… Yeah.” Chris nodded vigorously, and Mark led him over to his couch. He seemed really out of it, given that he wasn’t as insistent on his personal space. Usually, Chris was very particular about who was able to touch him; and Mark technically wasn't on that list. That said, Mark still was somewhat respectful about that, he didn't hold him too tightly or for too long; It was just enough to walk him across the room.

“You need anything? Water? Blanket? Someone to talk to?”

“Time to breath.” Chris huffed. Mark walked back to his spinning chair, positioning it so he was half-facing both his desk and his friend.

"I gotta get back to my broadcast but, if you need me to at all, feel free to stop me again." He told Chris. His friend made a small, strained hum in response. Mark gave him one final glance, then turned back to his microphone.

“-Sorry to leave you all in silence… Thought I heard a Coyote outside, and not the one I’m friends with.-” With that short phrase, he slowly got back into his groove. It took a few moments to find the right balance, but once he did it engulfed him like a worn blanket. Occasionally, he’d glance over at Chris as he ranted on into the night. His friend seemed to slowly heal as time went on, becoming more relaxed on the couch.

But, like every night, there came a point where Harry had run out of things to say. Nothing more he could think of seemed quite good enough to rant about yet, they were still just fragments of thoughts he had rather than full on conversations. So, He signed of without much fanfare, letting the air fall calm for it's nightly rest.

Mark leaned over in his chair, facing Chris but still keeping a hopefully comfortable distance between them. “You alright? You seemed pretty spooked earlier.”

Chris shifted in his seat for a bit. “I don't think I was actually in danger…” He mumbled without much else.

“What do you mean by that?” Mark asked, raising an eyebrow. Chris fell silent again. While Mark could sometimes have trouble wording things involving empathy, one thing he did understand well enough was falling quiet in times of stress. “Look, I’m not gonna force anything out of you- Hell, we can just stop talking altogether if you want- But I’m frankly a bit worried. So, if you /do/ want to say anything, then it doesn’t leave this room.”

They stayed in silence for a bit more. Mark turned himself to sort through unopened letters, not wanting Chris to feel pressured into his decision. He gazed down at the various envelopes, pondering about their contents further… Questions people dare not speak in the day; Stories sworn never to be repeated; The most buried secrets of some random student at Hubert Humphrey High. All of which had been entrusted to Harry and Harry alone, even if Mark technically had to read them too.

“I’m… Confused.” Chris said suddenly. Mark turned his head, raising a brow at his statement.

“What is confusing you?”

“No… Mark I mean… I’m _Confused_.”

…

**Oh.**

Mark set his letters down, reached into a box piled high with open papers, and pulled out one that had been nested into the side. He showed it to Chris. “The same Confused from here?”

Chris nodded, giving him his final piece of clarification.

“Is there a reason you wanted to tell me that tonight?” He asked.

Chris had trouble forming his words. “…You asked... Sort of..."

Mark nodded, remembering what he'd said earlier tonight when he'd started his broadcast. "I... I did didn't I? Did you walk over here?" Mark's own body was adjusted to colder temperatures, but he could not for the life of him wrap his head around _why_ every kid in the middle of the desert insisted on it too.

 

Chris told his story:

  
"I was at home and heard your message so I figured I'd come by cause my house isn't too far, and it sounded like you were gonna be talking for a while... When I got to that point that's halfway from the school and halfway to your house, I kept feeling like someone was following me. But, now that I think about it, I didn't even see anyone there. I think it was just dark and some shadows looked funny, I might have just panicked for no reason."

Mark raised an eyebrow. " _No reason?_ Now, I'm not an expert on the mind, but I'd say what you wrote to me about before is reason enough. I've never experienced what you did, but I think it's fair to say anyone would be afraid of someone following them after that."

"...Yeah, I guess..." Chris almost looked down, but midway through gained a sudden bit of confidence, "Yeah, That was it... You're right."

Mark was somewhat impressed by this change in demeanor. "You seemed pretty quick to jump back from that."

"I told us both that night that I was done denying who I was and what happened to me," Chris explained, "I'm not going back on that just cause I saw a shadow."

Mark hummed, smiling at him. "Well, Hey, that's pretty good." He still felt a bit of worry, but Chris seemed like he was handling things well enough for now. He turned back to his papers sorting them out so the unopened ones didn't get mixed in with anything he'd already read through.

"Are any of those-?" Chris began, but he didn't finish. Mark gave him a look, then remembered why he'd come here in the first place.

"Oh, no. I have those somewhere else," He explained, starting to walk across the room, "Thanks for reminding me, I almost forgot."

Chris chuckled. "Yeah..." There was a pause. "Did you know I was Confused before tonight?"

"I Had a hunch, but I figured you would tell me yourself if it were the truth. I'm making an effort to try and not assume anything about my listeners anymore." He explained. Mark opened one of his drawers, pulling out various wads of socks that had been shoved into it. At the bottom laid the letters. Normally, he would have hidden them in a box like his others; but he thought their content was something that needed extra security.

"I did skim over these, but only because I wanted to make sure they weren't some Assholes trying to say something hurtful... Most of them are just people who wanted to give you well wishes or ask for advice. " He explained, passing the notes off to Chris.

He looked over the pile, seeming genuinely surprised by the size of it."This is all of them?" He said with disbelief.

Mark nodded. "All the decent ones... I'm happy to say that there were more of them than the bad. I've also got more mail waiting to be opened so if I find more I'll set it aside."

Chris raised an eyebrow."...What did you do with the bad ones?"

"I burned 'em up... Bigots get too much of a voice in society as it is, and they don't deserve it. I'm not gonna let them think for even a second they'll get any attention on my airwaves. The only hatred Hard Harry tolerates is aimed towards the unjustly powerful."

Mark went back to cleaning up his desk, giving Chris his privacy. While he didn't read the entirety of them, he knew how deeply personal some of these letters could get. Chris's own letter, for example. Mark hadn't read something that personal since, well, the night before he supposed... Even if he didn't realize it at the time. But, he knew most of the letters addressed for Confused were mostly from kids in the process of questioning their own sexuality; so the subject matter was probably not the easiest thing to be open about.

"Why." Chris mumbled. Mark looked over in question, hoping for elaboration. Chris set the letters down on his lap. "Why did they want to ask me?"

Mark shrugged. "Maybe it's easier for them to talk about their sexuality with someone they already know is gay. I wouldn't know for certain, I never know why people ask /me/ anything either to be honest... But, I think most of them have something they need to say; And I happen to be the only person who will listen."

"Yeah... That's why I wrote in," Chris admitted, "I didn't know who I could tell. I thought _'Maybe I could trust Harry'_. And even if it went horrible, I at least could say I tried."

Mark gathered up the last of his papers, setting them gently into the box he had waiting for them. He then tucked the box away next to one full of knickknacks and other things he neglected to unpack. Then, he sat on the couch. "I'm glad that you reached out to me. It was very brave of you to do that, I only wish I could have been more of a help that night." Mark said, slouching back into the cushions.

Then, much to his surprise, Chris shifted closer to him; close enough that Mark could just faintly smell chlorine. "If... If it weren't for that night... I don't think I would be the same person I am right now. I wouldn't have even tried to walk out here tonight, I definitely wouldn't be as open about my sexuality with you guys. Fuck, I dunno if I would've even gone with Paige to met you and Mazz and Nora... Writing that letter and having that talk with Harry? That was the beginning of my healing process."

The two of them fell into silence. Not an awkward one, but a comfortable one... As though both of them had said everything that they needed to say about the matter. Mark certainly couldn't think of anything else they really needed to address, anyways. So, there they sat, just keeping each other company for a few minutes.

Chris looked up at him. "Hey um, Mark?"

Mark looked over at him. "Yeah, Chris?"

"... Could I stay here for the night? I mean, I don't want to intrude but it's getting really late and my parents probably won't wanna drive over this late and I just-" Mark held up his hand, a signal to stop talking. Truthfully, he was planning on walking Chris home in the first place, just so he wouldn't have to trek all the way back alone again... But, maybe this was a better option given how late it had gotten.

"You're more then welcome to stay over," Mark said, "My phone's on the desk if you wanna call your house." He walked over to his closet, digging though it for some spare blankets he kept around. As he did, he could overhear Chris talking to who he assumed was his Mother. Though, he didn't pay much mind to what was being said. He didn't really need to. By the time he'd gotten everything, Chris had hung up.

"My mom said she wants me home after school tomorrow." He said.

Mark nodded. "Alright then... I usually walk to school in the mornings but I might be able to convince my mom to drive us if you're tired. In the meantime, You just worry about getting some sleep." He passed off the blankets.

"Thanks, Mark."

"Yeah, don't mention it."

 


	5. Mark Hunter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Possible triggers: Mention of a character who committed suicide.

"Are you sure this place is safe? Like, I heard some kids talking about how they lit a bunch of fireworks and something about a ten-foot penis... Plus it sounds illegal." Chris asked. Presently, He and Paige were walking to a field near the school that had become a popular hang out for Harry fans. And while he trusted Paige, he had absolutely no idea what to expect from anyone else that was going to be there.

"It's not that bad... I mean, they get kind of riled up if it's an extravagant broadcast, but they're also pretty chill." Paige explained, "Besides, Mazz will be there so it's _totally_ safe."

Chris gave her a look. "Didn't Mazz almost blow off his fingers cause He forgot he had a literal explosive in his hand?"

Paige sighed. "Okay Mazz isn't safe from himself but that's just another reason for us to be there: so he doesn't almost blow himself up."

"Didn't you actually blow yourself up, though?"

That jokingly said (but entirely truthful) statement earned Chris a light shove and a sarcastic laugh. The two of them rounded a corner, circling the fence that lined the perimeter of the field. From the other side, they could see a decent sized group had amassed itself besides a truck with it's bed full of speakers. Among them was Mazz, who excitedly waved at the two upon noticing them in the distance.

"YO! PAIGE AND CHRIS! YOU MADE IT!" He called out, his voice seemingly happy. They ran over, immediately being greeted with big hugs. Mazz took the time to swing both of them around in his arms, and once he had stepped back with the biggest and goofiest of smiles. "You two ready for an awesome night?"

"Hell yeah we are!" Paige exclaimed, starting to feed off of the energy radiating in the area.

"How many people are here?"

Mazz scanned the crowd, pointing out people as he went along. "Well, excluding the three of us... Let's see; There's Jamie and Janie and Cheryl and Joey and Donald and Luis and Annie and Johnathan And Eric and Cory and Nora an-" Mazz paused himself, getting giddy again. "Oh shit- HEY NORA!!! OVER HERE!!!"

Nora ran up to join the group. "Hey guys, whats up?"

"We came for the show." Chris stated, "Gotta say this isn't usually my scene but It's not that bad."

Nora laughed. "It's definitely an upgrade from just listening alone in your bedroom."

The four of them stared into the rest of the crowd, ready to join at any time but for now keeping their distance.

"Mark would love this." Mazz said, "I mean, he'd hate being here cause of all the people but, He'd love seeing everyone this amped up for the show."

"I should bring my camera sometime and take a picture for him." Nora said.

Suddenly the group fell silent as the all too familiar lyrics to _Everybody Knows_ played out from the speakers. They exchanged glances, smiled, and calmly walked over to join the rest of the audience. The teens all waited in anticipation as Harry was hopefully prepping another set of well needed words.

“I’m going to assume everyone is listening now.” He began. The crowd fell into chuckles during this brief pause… Then, Harry continued.

“I know for a fact that there’s more of you out there than I could probably think is… And, I gotta be honest, sometimes it’s absolutely nerve wracking thinking about it… That's what I was doing tonight, thinking about what i could possibly do or say to you guys…

"But, I just feel absolutely burned out… I’m sure most of you do, too. You got homework and tests and jobs, or maybe just being social is exhausting enough for you. I mean, i got most of those on top of coming in every night talking with you guys… So, and I hope you understand, I’m giving myself the night off…”

There was a collective exchange of glances.

“Now don't worry,” Harry assured, “The show will go on as usual tomorrow… but tonight, old Harry just needs to rest and take care of a few things he’s been putting off… Hell, you should all do the same. Fuck homework, fuck that big test on Monday, fuck being at that party you don’t give a shit about. Just take tonight, and let yourself recoup whatever energy you just lost for however long you’ve been loosing it.

"Well, I’m just about out of energy now so… until next time all my lovely listeners. Lets all just get our long due rest.”

The signal cut out, nothing but remained. The crowd began to converse with themselves.

_“That's kind of a bummer.”_

_“Yeah but he does this every night for free, The least we can do is let him rest when he asks.”_

_“Yeah, plus hes basically sharing his night off with the rest of us.”_

_“He sounded kind of guilty about not being on, though.”_

_“Yeah, I hope he’s okay.”_

Not heard among the conversation was Mazz, who was already walking towards his car. Nora, Paige, and Chris followed behind him.

“You sure this is a good idea?” Paige asked, “He sounded really tired, he could be asleep already.”

Mazz sighed. “I know but, something doesn't feel right about this… I just wanna check in and see if he needs anything.”

Chris scampered up next to him. “What if he needs to be alone?”

Mazz stopped for a moment. “Then I’ll leave, but this just isn't sitting well and I wanna make sure I’m not going nuts.”

Nora got to his car before he did, and jumped into the back seat. “I’m coming too.” She declared. Mazz got into the drivers spot, looking over at the other two.

“You guys in or what?”

Paige took a look at the car, then sat herself next to Nora. Chris thought about it a little longer, but soon enough climbed into the passenger seat.

Mazz sped off into the night. Mark’s house was a fairly short drive, made shorter by the speed he was going. They stopped just in front of the house, scrambling out of the car and up to the back door that led into Mark’s room… It was shut.

Mazz knocked on it. “Mark, buddy? You okay in there?”

No one came to the door. Not a good sign. Mazz knocked again.

“Mark? Hey man we just wanna check up on you.”

Again, no answer came. Mazz started to walk around the house.

“What are you doing?” Paige asked. He didn’t respond. Instead he made his way to the front door and rang the bell. The other three stayed just out of view, but listened in.

The door opened, and a surprised voice spoke. “Mazz! I thought you and Mark were hanging out at your house tonight.”

Mazz didn't speak for a moment. “Brian… Yeah we are… I came over to pick him up… Is he up here? I didn’t get an answer from the back door.”

Brain Hunter gave him a confused look. “He walked out a little while ago, did he know you were gonna drive him?”

Mazz thought over it a moment. “Well… Shit I guess not… I just assumed he wanted a ride cause it’s night I guess.” He said with a laugh.

“And you didn't see him on the way over?” Brain asked, raising an eyebrow.

Mazz froze. "Nope... I didn't come from my house, I came from the field outside school."

Brian gave him a curious look, but shrugged. "Alright, I believe ya... You aught to get going, Mark's a pretty fast walker. He might beat you to your house."

Mazz nodded. "Yeah, I better... You and Marla have a good night, Ya hear?"

"Same to you, Mazz." After that Mr. Hunter shut the door. The other three walked up to Mazz.

"So, do you think Mark _did_ go to your house?" Chris asked.

Mazz shook his head. "Mark's never _been_ to my house..." He confessed, "He wouldn't know how to get there."

"So, he lied to his parents and went somewhere else then?" Nora concluded. It wasn't out of character for Mark, but generally not something he'd do under a normal circumstance. At least, not without telling someone else where he actually was going.

Paige suddenly remembered something. "Didn't he say he had to take care of something during his broadcast?"

"Yeah, he did didn't he?" Mazz mumbled.

Nora sighed. "Now the question is what did he want to take care of?"  
  
The group exchanged looks. None of them were really certain where Mark could have gone, but between the 4 of them there were probably some ideas that could be shared. 

 

* * *

 

It became apparent after checking the post office that they'd run out of possible ideas. Before then; they'd checked everyone's houses, an array of stores that were mostly closed at this hour, and a few restaurants they'd all gone to as a group. Still, no sign of Mark Hunter was to be found at any of them. And anyone they saw hadn't seen him, either.

"...Maybe we should call the cops." Paige suggested, "I mean, it's been almost an hour and there's no sign of him."

Mazz grunted, turning a random direction at an intersection. "That's a terrible idea. What if when they find him he freaks out cause he thinks they tracked down Hard Harry?"

"Well we can't just not tell someone! Can we?"

No one really had a definitive answer for this. While it was entirely possible that Mark could just show up the next morning completely fine, this whole situation was just uncomfortable. A teen disappearing suddenly in the middle of the night was usually something you heard on the news as the opener to a shock story. For all they know, Mark might be halfway out of the state now...

"Why would he just go out in the middle of the night?" Nora pondered, "What could possibly have been on his mind that would make him want to do this?"

Chris leaned back, huffing in frustration. "Yeah, and he didn't even tell anyone where he was going. It's like he has a death wish or-"

Mazz slammed on the breaks, the car coming to a jarring halt as everyone braced themselves against their seat belts. He drifted around the lane divider in the center of the road, and sped down the opposite direction. Everyone was very quick to complain.

"Mazz why would you-

"The Hell was-

"Mazz, dude what the fuck-

**"I know where he is."**

Everyone fell quiet, the looks on their faces all asking the same question:

_"Where are we going?"_

 

* * *

 

Mark looked up at the large iron fence that he had scaled just a few minutes before. Of course, it had been easier from the other side given the actual placement of the bars was uneven... Mark hadn't really been anticipating this predicament, even though he was aware of it. Still, he did his best to scale it a second time. He managed to get his foot to just barely fit on the ledge, and slowly brought himself up.

Then he saw headlights. Mark fell right back down, hiding in the shadows of the barrier. The last thing he needed was the cops finding out he trespassed into a cemetery. He held his breath, falling back into his signature silence. It was his safety blanket, he could always count on it to keep him calm. He pressed up as far as he could against the concrete, waiting for whoever was there to pass by.

"Mark? You Okay buddy?"

"We know you're in there, Mark Hunter!"

"You don't have to hide from us, dude."

"Mark come on, we just wanna talk."

Well, that definitely wasn't the police. Mark took a deep breath, steadying himself.

 _It's just your friends, you can talk to your friends..._  He told himself, _You just gotta work yourself towards it..._

He breathed for a few more moments, then slowly stood up and turned around. He had to shield his eyes from the headlights to prevent being blinded. God, why were they so bright?

Mazz apparently noticed this. "Shit wait, Forgot the lights. One sec, bud!"

A few moments later and the lights were shut off. Mark put his arm down, blinking a few times to let his vision fix itself. He could finally see his friends. They all scrambled out of Mazz's car and up to the fence. Mark looked down at his feet a moment, then up at his friends. Mazz was the one directly in front of him.

Mark took a breath, preparing to say something. But his words left just before he had a chance to speak them. He took a few more, trying to force them out. He managed a short, strangled whine, but nothing more. He kept trying, his throat becoming more strained as he tried.

"Mark, don't hurt yourself." Mazz mumbled. Mark looked up at him, sighed, and nodded. He couldn't talk right now, nothing was going to change that.

"So," Nora Began "When you said you had to take care of something... You meant you wanted to see Malcolm?"

Mark nodded.

"And you told your parents you were going to my house so they wouldn't ask?"

Another nod.

Nora sighed. "Why though?"

Mark's eyes traveled a bit, as though trying to figure out something. Then, they settling on Chris. Soon, everyone else's eyes were on him too. He appeared confused for a moment, then seemed to think over it.

"You... You assumed he wasn't serious like he said he was..." Chris mumbled, "And, because of that... You felt like you used your power in an unjust manner?"

A nod, and a glance at Paige.

"And you came here because you wanted to? You thought it might help you feel better, even if it blew up in your face?"

And, with one final nod, Mark managed to explain himself without saying a single word. The rest of the group fell into quiet. They exchanged looks, then stared right back at Mark.

"Do you need help getting back over here?" Mazz asked. Mark, again, just nodded.

They gave him a boost over the fence. It was difficult, given the height and the fact that they were all on the other side of it. Yet, somehow they managed to get him up and over. A brisk breeze hit everyone.

"Ah, Jeez, that's cold." Chris mumbled.

"Yeah," Mazz sighed, "Hey Mark? Do you want us to take you home?"

Mark looked at his feet, taking a few breaths.

"Mark?"

"I'm Sorry." He rasped, "You... You all came out... because I wasn't ho-home and-" Mark grabbed at his throat, trying to force through the muteness again. It hurt like hell. He felt a series of arms wrap around him before he had the chance to speak another word. 

"Mark, just... Stop okay?" Nora pleaded.

"You have nothing you need to apologize for right now." Chris assured.

"You said you wanted to rest tonight, right?" Paige mumbled, "If anything needs rest right now, it's your voice."

"Just, let us crash at your place for the night and we'll call it even... Right guys?" Mazz said. Everyone nodded, seeming fine with this arrangement.

Mark looked up at his friends... Friend he hadn't even known at the beginning of the year, yet ones he felt he closer to than most of his previous ones. He smiled, then let out a soft yawn. Mazz gently wiped away a tear that had trailed down Mark's cheek. "C'mon... let's all go home."

Mark was nodding in and out of sleep for most of the ride over. He couldn't help it, His exhaustion from walking on top of his exhaustion from staying up late was just starting to take it's toll. The cold night air was probably the only reason he hadn't completely fallen under by this point. By the time they'd gotten to his house, he was too exhausted to stand on his own. Luckily, two people were at either side of him helping him walk (Nora and Chris probably, again he was tired).

They'd entered through the front door. Mazz took time to explain to his Mom that they all decided to sleep over, but didn't go much further than that. She seemed to buy into it well enough from what Mark could tell. He didn't hear much of it besides from a promise of breakfast the next morning. After the conversation, all 5 of them trudged downstairs.

Mark remembered flopping onto his bed and having someone pull his glasses off of him immediately afterwards. He stared over for a moment, yet sleep still was just barely out of reach. However, something not out of his reach was Mazz. Mark shakily moved his arm over, tapping him a few times. Mazz looked down at him, his eyes asking a few questions but his mouth not speaking. Mark grabbed his hand, giving it a quick squeeze.

Mazz yawned, mumbling something that sounded like "Alright buddy." Then, he laid down right next to Mark. Mark looked over, seeing Nora looking right back at them. He nodded his head, and she laid down right on the other side of them. Paige looked for a single moment, then joined in next to Nora. Chris stared from across the room, only finally moving over when Mazz patted a spot still left behind him.

They all slept pretty soundly that night. No disruptions, No next morning aches, just a few hours of well needed quiet.


End file.
